


and also there's a pizzahouse

by mizael



Category: Promare (2019)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Domestic Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Moving On, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-26
Updated: 2019-09-26
Packaged: 2020-10-28 22:54:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20786393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mizael/pseuds/mizael
Summary: Lio finds the strength to move on, despite everything, and Galo helps in his own way. Also there's pizza.No, it’s not that it’s quiet. It’s thatitis quiet.Lio stares blankly at his palm in front him, clenching and unclenching his fist in a desperate attempt to conjure the feeling of burning that all Burnish should know like the back of their hand. Yet, the silence greets him, and the wind blows outside, and there is not even smoke that rises from his hands. The lines on his palms are crossed with a fine line that reminds Lio of the Promare and their world, their Earth. Separated cleanly again, like it should have been from the start.We want to continue burning. To go even brighter. Can you hear us? Can you help us? We want to burn, burn, burn.Silence, again.





	and also there's a pizzahouse

**Author's Note:**

> tears are salt water and cannot sate my galolio thirst

The next day, Lio wakes up to the sound of silence.

Though—it’s a little wrong to say that, because there is noise  _ everywhere _ . Hammers clanking, machinery whirring, pigeons cooing, even the sound of conversation among the city workers and volunteer cleanup crew. They mix together like coffee and milk, blending so smoothly that Lio can almost ignore the noise. 

No, it’s not that it’s quiet. It’s that  _ it _ is quiet.

Lio stares blankly at his palm in front him, clenching and unclenching his fist in a desperate attempt to conjure the feeling of burning that all Burnish should know like the back of their hand. Yet, the silence greets him, and the wind blows outside, and there is not even smoke that rises from his hands. The lines on his palms are crossed with a fine line that reminds Lio of the Promare and their world, their Earth. Separated cleanly again, like it should have been from the start.

_ We want to continue burning. To go even brighter. Can you hear us? Can you help us? We want to burn, burn, burn. _

Silence, again.

“You’re awake!” Lio looks up. “Did’ja have a good sleep?”

Galo Thymos stands in the doorway of his own bedroom, already dressed head to toe in his firefighting gear. A look at the clock next to the bed tells Lio that it is only 6AM and that he has slept no more than three measly hours before waking up again of his own volition.

They had to physically drag him away from the remains of the Parnassus; Lio spent the day helping each individual Burnish get out of their fuel cells and to food and water and perhaps a nice bed. “Nice bed” was pushing it, however, as Lio could not offer them much besides a blanket and a pillow and a designated spot to sleep in. They had not even gotten through a quarter of all the fuel cells when day turned to night and then morning again.

Galo had helped the best he could, and threw the biggest ruckus when Aina came by to tell him to stop so he could rest. But the battle before and the work after had tired both of them out immensely, especially since Lio hadn’t slept for more than 24 hours the day previous. He collapsed first, and then Galo took him back.

It was Galo that offered Lio his bed to sleep in, and despite Lio’s (weak) protests, he was deposited onto the mattress while Galo slept on the couch of his own apartment.

“As best I could,” he replies, clenching his fist again. “It’s still early, but I have to get back to work.”

“Yeah,” Galo scratches the back of his neck sheepishly. “Aina said I shouldn’t come in for the next few days, but how could I do that? There’s people to help and rescue. That’s the point of the fire and rescue team!”

Lio feels a small smile begin to tug subconsciously at the edge of his lips.

It was hard not to develop a kind of fondness for Galo, especially after everything they went through together in the past 48 hours. Loud, abrasive, and stupid he may be, Galo Thymos has a good heart and a strong desire to help those in need. Lio could not fault him for that, no matter how much he wants to.

“Yes,” he says, voice soft. “That is the point of the fire and rescue team.”

Galo gives him a big smile, then does a little wave with his hand. “I was listenin’ to the radio and some people are stuck under rubble. I gotta get to them first, but after I’m done I’m gonna help you get the Burnish out!”

“Go, then,” Lio waves him off with a flick of his hand. “I’ll make my way over to the Parnassus.”

Galo doesn’t need to be told twice, and disappears down the hallway to the front door. However, the footsteps stop halfway and then Galo comes running back to poke his head through the doorframe.

“By the way, I’m leavin’ my motorcycle for you. Can’t fly anywhere with fire anymore, yeah?” Galo has the biggest grin on his face. “You know how to ride it.”

Lio snorts. “Probably better than you.”

“Hey—!” something beeps in Galo’s pocket, and he takes it out in a rush. His face turns from teasing to panicked. “That's the pager! I’m off!”

Lio can barely manage a “see you later” before Galo is already sprinting out the door to wherever he needs to be. Without his spirit, the house falls silent again and leaves Lio to his own thoughts.

He closes his eyes and breathes through his nose, clenching his fists harder around the fabric of Galo’s blanket.

_ Do you still wish to burn? _

No answer, though Lio doesn’t know what it was that he was expecting.

The Promare are long gone now.

  
  
  
  
  


Lio remembers:

A cactus, in the middle of the desert. It was unremarkable; after all, it was a cactus in the middle of the desert. Miles and miles around, there would be more cacti, growing along the sand and out of the cracks of the dry earth.

They followed the cacti to home, stopped and cut down every single one they could find. Lio would then distribute the water they found inside to the passengers of the truck and they would make sure everyone got their fill as they went along on their journey to freedom. It was hot, the sun and the sands, but to heat Lio felt almost nothing in his all-black ensemble. The Promare within burned hotter than any desert could ever hope to achieve.

And so they all got back home, to the dilapidated ruins of an old construction site, where Lio could grab a bottle of water and start chugging it like it would be the last time he’d ever drink anything.  _ Burnish are humans, too _ , he remembered saying, then chucked the bottle across the room as he remembered the cave and the ashes, too.

If it weren’t for the Promare, he thought, they wouldn’t have to do this. If it weren’t for the Promare, they’d all be humans, too.

Yet, the sun peaks over the remains of the Parnassus, and Lio shields his eyes from the light.

It feels cold.

  
  
  
  
  


The weeks afterward pass by so quickly that Lio cannot process that it’s been a month since the incident until he’s sitting at a coffeehouse for lunch and sees Kray Foresight’s face on a building’s screen across the street. It doesn’t feel like a month until he realizes the extreme apathy he feels at the news of Kray’s conviction.

A month before, he might have felt some sort of satisfaction or even happiness, but thinking about Kray Foresight now is like remembering an elementary school bully from his younger days. It seems so far and so long ago, and so many things have happened since then that require Lio’s attention more than the downfall of the mastermind behind the Parnassus. It almost feels expected, like he knew it would happen, and such knowledge has already made its way through his mind and body. Repeating it now just feels redundant.

What Kray Foresight did was one thing, but the aftermath it caused was another.

Lio looks down at the screens in front of him, an array of tablets and papers and pens both digital and physical. It had taken a week just to get the rest of the Burnish out of the fuel cells and by then they had started running out of supplies to clothe and feed every person that was released. There were as many Burnish on the Parnassus as there were supposed “residents” of the new planet—10,000 of them, in fact, though a significant amount of Burnish perished during the stress of the warp. Galo didn’t say anything whenever Lio opened a fuel cell to be greeted with ashes, only put his hand on his shoulder and squeezed.

Though they are no longer connected by the Promare, Lio feels every soul that they had lost. Perhaps it was a residue of their power, or spirit, but with every fuel cell they opened to nothingness Lio felt a great pain in his heart and tears prickling at the edge of his eyes. But he must carry on, for them, and for everyone else that survived, so he bit his cheek and stemmed his tears and took the towel that Galo offered to wipe off his sweat. It was the only thing he could do.

And now, a month later, he is looking over housing reports and financial details and trying to get all of the Burnish somewhere to live and food to eat. In the middle of all that initial chaos, he had been chosen as the Burnish’s representative even though he had no experience in doing any of this before. No one objected; no one saw fit to. He was the Burnish Hero, after all. If anyone could get the job done, it was him.

He has no time for Kray Foresight.

  
  
  
  
  


Lio remembers:

Having to learn how to use a crowbar and operate the jaws of life. 

While some of the fuel cells could be opened via the legacy system of the Parnassus, others were damaged during the fight and subsequent fall of the ship. For those cells, Galo had to bring in the special equipment they usually used to save people from wrecked cars, and pry open a part of the cell so they could look inside.

If the person inside was still alive, they’d hurry to get the rest of the equipment and open the hatch. If they were greeted with nothing, then.

Then.

Then…

  
  
  
  
  


“Lio! Lio! Oi, Lio!”

Lio opens his eyes and his vision is blurry. After a few blinks things start to focus around him, and he realizes somewhat sleepily that Galo is on top of him and shaking him by the shoulders.

“Galo?” he musters, half-asleep, though immediately regrets it as he feels his throat flare up in pain.

Galo finally stops shaking him and moves back a bit to stare at him for a moment. Lio blinks another few times until he’s somewhat awake, and looks up at Galo with a hint of annoyance for having woken him up in the middle of the night. The moon is still shining brightly by his window (Galo’s window) and the sky is pitch black, showing no signs of an encroaching dawn.

“Galo?” he tries again, voice hoarse. He feels tempted to scratch at his neck but chases it away by yawning and stretching.

Then winces, because even the yawn makes his throat protest.

“Yeah, you’re sick,” Galo finally says, crossing his arms as he straddles Lio on the bed. “You were twisting and turning in your sleep and muttering on and on! You knocked the clock over.”

Lio turns his eyes to the bed stand where the alarm clock is conspicuously absent, then trails his gaze to the floor where said clock lies face down on the ground, broken glass scattered around it.

“Oh,” is all he can say in response.

Galo’s hand comes to rest on his forehead, then sighs. “You’re burning. I got medicine somewhere so I’ll find it! Don’t move.”

Galo bounces off the bed and charges out of the room like a man on a mission, and Lio can only watch dumbly as he disappears from sight. He can hear the sound of cabinets opening in the background, drawers being slammed, and things crashing in the main area of the apartment. Lio wants to go out and see what kind of ruckus Galo is causing, but his limbs feel heavy and his throat feels parched and it’s like all the energy of his body has been completely sucked out of him. He lets himself fall back into bed to wait for Galo.

When was the last time he’s been sick? Lio doesn’t think he’s ever even gotten sick in the first place. Is this what it felt like? Helpless, heavy, and hot.

Absently, he places one of his own hands on his forehead then recoils as the heat brushes his skin.

He’s burning.

Lio stares in shock at his own hand, so surprised by the feeling of burning that he doesn’t even notice Galo come back in with a glass of water and a bottle of pills a while later.

“Lio!”

He snaps his head up, and Galo shakes the little bottle of pills in his face. The contents rattle against the container and the sound makes Lio wince.

“Stop doing that,” he says.

Galo stops and puts down the glass of water on the bed stand and then pops open the lid to the pill bottle. “You weren’t responding so I got worried.”

“... I’m burning.”

“Yeah, that’s normal for a fever?” Galo blinks. “You burn.”

“No, I’m… I’ve never…”

“Oh, I get it!” Galo thumps his fist against his palm and Lio can almost physically see the lightbulb go off on top of his head. “Don’t worry Lio, I’m a firefighter and have emergency medical training! I’ll put out any fire! Including your fever!”

Lio can’t help the snort that escapes his throat then bursts into laughter.

“What?! Why are you laughing?!”

Lio chortles, then coughs as his throat flares up in pain again. “Y-You’re… so stupid.”

Galo huffs but gives him a pill and the glass of water; Lio drinks it down quickly, savoring the fleeting feeling of relief against his throat as the cold water rushes down.

It only takes another minute before he starts feeling sleepy again.

“Hey Lio, you should get some rest,” Galo says, pulling the covers up to his chin. “You haven’t gotten much lately.”

“Mmn… been busy…”

“Can’t help people while you’re sick.”

Lio makes a small noise of affirmation but can feel his eyelids growing heavy again, guided by the medication and the lull of silence as the night presses on. Beside, the clinking of glass reaches his ears, and then the sound of something scraping on the floor.

“Good night, Lio.”

He slips into darkness.

  
  
  
  
  


(There is the crackling of fire and the sound of voices, resonating around him like the first shocks of an earthquake. In his palm he holds thousands of sentient life, bundled into the image of a small flame.

_ We forgive you. _

_ We—forgive—you— _

Then the sparks scatter like broken glass and slip through the cracks of the bedroom door, swept away by the wind. Lio reaches his hand out, weakly, but finds it is like pushing against running water. He tries to step forward but his feet don’t move.

There is something smoking, on the other side of the door. Purple and green sparks that alight him with familiarity.

The door opens.

It’s himself in the fuel cell, surrounded by ashes. They go up to his knees. He can’t move, he can’t move, oh gods, he  _ can’t move— _

_ we f o r g i v e _

“Lio!”

Galo rips him away and then suddenly the ashes are gone. Lio stares in disbelief at his hands but Galo takes them in his, squeezing hard. Lio can feel every callous on his palm.

Beyond the floating window, the sun rises again.)

Lio remembers:

Waking up again when the sun has hit its peak in the sky. He is covered in sweat and has kicked all the covers off of him over the course of the night. When he runs his hand through his hair, it tangles with the sweat and Lio shudders.

He looks to the side.

Galo Thymos is sleeping hunched over on the side of the bed, having dragged a chair over from the kitchen. The broken alarm clock and the glass shards on the floor are gone and there is not even a speck to attest to its former existence. Lio, wondering if it was all a fever dream, looks at the bed stand but the clock there is still gone.

“Lio…” Galo mutters in his sleep, muffled by his arms which he is sleeping on.

“Galo,” Lio reflexively responds, then laughs a bit to himself. The pain in his throat is mostly gone.

Some warm feeling washes over him as he watches Galo sleep on the side of his own bed. Lio reaches out and places his palm on top of him.

“Thank you.”

  
  
  
  
  


As things begin to die down, so too do their schedules. Lio is still spending most of his time either at home or in the nearby cafe when he’s growing too tired of Galo’s apartment. On days where he feels particularly restless, he takes Galo’s motorcycle and rides circles around the former frozen lake, where they met Deus Prometheus.

Every single fuel cell within the Parnassus has been accounted for, and most of the Burnish now have shelter and food to help them reintegrate into society. It’s odd when Lio thinks about it—pouring over paperwork, arguing with stubborn, old authority—when he joined Mad Burnish all those years ago, he had vowed to create a city just for the Burnish to live in peace.

It was naive, but it was the only thing he believed in back then.

“You know you can still be Burnish,” Galo says over a mouthful of pizza as he’s trying to shove another slice in his mouth. The Inferno Margherita Max or something pizza, Lio doesn’t know. Galo (thankfully) swallows before he continues. “Nothin’s stopping you.”

Lio takes a sip of his iced tea. “The Promare are gone,” he replies.

Galo frowns. “Yeah, but just because you can’t do your fire thing anymore doesn’t mean you aren’t Burnish!”

“Galo, you…” Lio starts, about to feel a headache coming on, but then stops. A sudden realization hits him. “Wait, what?”

“Yeah! You guys still went through stuff together, right?” Galo stares at him as if Lio is the stupidest person in the world. If the gears in Lio’s head weren’t turning with every single word, he would marvel at the irony. “You still care for all the Burnish. It’s like me and Burning Rescue!”

“Like you and Burning Rescue…” Lio repeats.

“If they left Burning Rescue they’d still be part of Burning Rescue in my heart! We’re a team and we work together!” Galo thumps his chest proudly, a grin on his face.

The sun hits him just right at that moment, and Lio can see the freckles dotting the bridge of Galo’s nose and the jut of his chin. It sets Galo’s soft blue hair alight with gold and the rays travel in squares down the width of his chest. Lio cannot help but stare at him in a mixture of shock, awe, and…

and…

His own face is burning. Lio ducks underneath the rays and sips his iced tea again.

“You’re right,” he manages to say, trying not to look in the direction of the sun.

“Aren’t I?!”

Lio reaches over and snags a slice of the pizza from Galo’s side of the table. Galo gawks and then yells at him to give it back, but Lio shoves the entire slice into his mouth with a grin.

“Oi, you freeloader!”

“This is actually pretty good,” Lio remarks after he’s managed to chew and swallow the food in his mouth, then turns to call the waiter. “Another pizza please.”

Galo continues yelling at him.

  
  
  
  
  


Lio remembers:

The moment after the end and just before the beginning, when him and Galo were standing triumphant atop the wreck of the Parnassus. It was but a moment, no longer than the second it needed for their fists to touch. He remembers feeling that all too familiar spark like the start of a flame, but at the time he was so used to such a feeling that he didn’t think too much of it at all.

As he lies awake in bed, hearing Galo thumping around in the living room and kitchen trying to find something to eat after a long day at work, he remembers that moment most of all. His hands clench, and unclench, trying to chase after a feeling from so long ago.

Lio throws the covers off of him and then marches out of the room, slamming the door open in the process. Galo jumps and hits his head on the refrigerator door when he hears it, followed by a loud “OUCH!”.

“Galo Thymos,” Lio says, crossing his arms at the entrance to the hallway. “Go sleep in your own bed.”

Galo withdraws his bruised head from the refrigerator, rubbing the sore spot where he hit it, and looks at Lio like he’s just grown a second head. “What?”

“Sleep in your own bed.”

“What brought this on?!”

“Just do it.”

“I wanna eat first!”

Lio just sighs and goes over to retrieve a tupperware container from the refrigerator clearly marked with Galo’s name. “I left this for you.”

“Aw, Lio, you’re the best!” Galo swings his arm around Lio’s shoulder and pulls him close into a sloppy hug. “What is it?”

“It’s the pizza from that one place you like so much,” Lio manages, muffled in Galo’s chest.

Galo lets him go then takes the container from him and makes his way over to the microwave. In a few seconds, Lio can hear the thing turn on and start buzzing. Galo washes his hands in the sink then grabs the worn pillow and comforter he’s been using as a makeshift bed on the couch.

“You only set your pizza for like fifteen seconds,” Lio says. The microwave  _ dings _ behind him. “What are you doing moving now?”

“I’ll just eat while I settle in,” Galo shouts behind him.

“Don’t eat in bed!”

Lio follows after Galo in a huff and Galo laughs at him, throwing his pillow and comforter on the bed as he enters the bedroom. It lands almost perfectly next to the one that Lio has been using for the past few months.

“Feeling better?” Galo asks out of the blue.

Lio blinks, then turns his head away as he smiles. “Yeah, a little.”

Galo pulls him down onto the bed and Lio yelps as he feels Galo’s knee practically jab him in the gut on the way down. Galo laughs the whole way down and rolls them both over until they’re laying on the mattress together, just barely big enough to fit the both of them at once. 

Lio rolls over and buries his face in Galo’s chest, exhaling slowly, as if he were finally coming down from a bad mental break. Perhaps he is, he thinks.

“Thank you,” he finds himself saying again, quiet.

Galo’s hand comes to ruffle his hair and he laughs loud enough that Lio can feel his chest thump and vibrate against his cheekbones. “I’ll be here for you wherever you go.”

In the kitchen, the microwave beeps again.

**Author's Note:**

> do you ever think about the fact that lio and galo could live together post canon?? do you? DO YOU??? because i do, every moment of my life  
(please leave me a comment.... please....)
> 
> -> [@octomaidly](https://twitter.com/octomaidly)


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